Wednesday, 26 October 2016


The roses went brown as they lay on the 
As the damp leaves lay next to them. 
Is this place good enough will they find me first?
Stay still don't move a sole.

The footsteps of people, sprinting around, in the leaves, as 
 the teachers  count ….99….
And the bushes hold their breath.
We wonder, if the footsteps were the teachers, 
or someone, trying to find somewhere to hide, 
Don't breathe, keep hushed.

“Found you,” yells the teacher 
She's close, as the bushes are holding their breath. 
Is she yelling at me, or someone else. 
Turns out it isn't me.
The sun goes into shadow, 
there is the teacher.
 Don't talk, don't even whisper.

Foot spots stroll through
The bark, as I quickly tuck my feet in
the bushes and I hold my breath, as 
A friend whispers “she's coming.”
This time, I mean it, stay still don't move.

Spot you Sophia!
My friend mutters,
“She found us, we are doomed.”
Now, I can uncurl and return, over
to the damp grass

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